


kissing new constellations onto your skin

by orphan_account



Series: stars with skin [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Other, Post-Canon, human!Astral
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astral's new human body is limited in some ways, but limitless in others. Yuuma will teach him anything, and Astral is willing to learn.</p><p>[Post-canon human Astral AU. Drabble. Aged up a bit. Keyship. PWP.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	kissing new constellations onto your skin

**Author's Note:**

> um, i think this is my first Actual Zexal Fic, despite being in and out of the fandom for so long?? (god??????)
> 
> for more info on the _stars with skin_ au that me and my friend gutter co-created, in which this drabble takes place, head on over [here!](http://guttersvoice.tumblr.com/post/110660353936/so-this-human-astral-au-tsukum-and-i-have-been)

Astral touches Yuuma between his legs for the first time and he can’t take his eyes off Yuuma’s face. So it follows that Yuuma can’t take his eyes off of Astral’s. Because Astral looks like he’s trying with all of himself to absorb and retain every feature and curve and microshift of every expression Yuuma makes. Like Astral’s eyes are two beautiful computers, their wires trembling as they’re exposed to concepts they’ve never even heard of before, calmly drinking in the new information for resynthesis just as they always have, but underneath the chrome their chips fizzle and shiver with a new excitement. 

Before this they had been kissing, lots and lots. Astral likes to kiss Yuuma. The human body granted to Astral after everything had taken lots of getting used to at first, and Astral will not lie and say that he does not sometimes miss his old form of existence. At least some parts of it. But kissing Yuuma was something that absolutely made it worth it. Astral likes being able to feel how soft Yuuma’s lips are. Astral likes the sparks and tickles that dance up his body when Yuuma kisses his lips and his cheeks and his temples and his forehead. He likes the shocks of unfamiliar pleasure that jolt through his system when Yuuma kisses the places where Astral’s gems had been before, he likes the shiver and the hot and the little noises Yuuma made, he likes the smack of lips and the sweet spit and most of all he likes the words Yuuma whispers when they are kissing like this alone. _I love you. Can we be like this forever? I don’t ever want to be apart from you. Astral, Astral, Astral, my Astral._

And Yuuma had started talking with him a long time ago, red-faced and indirectly but stubbornly refusing to give up to his own embarrassment, about something that two humans could do to make each other feel good and show how much they loved each other, and this is what happens and this is what it was called, and would Astral like to try it, and--

and Astral understood the thoughts he had sometimes after kissing Yuuma lots, afterwards when he was alone and too hot-- 

“Does it feel good?” asks Astral. Even with Astral’s hands sending sparks of pleasure up and down his spine like this, it’s impossible for Yuuma to miss the extra breathiness that’s laced itself around the edges of Astral’s voice. He’s never heard Astral like that. 

It makes him even harder, wincing as his grip on Astral’s free hand tightens. He’s almost completely swept back up into the riptide before he remembers to tell Astral, “Y-- yeah. Really good.” 

“What does it feel like?” Astral leans his face even closer in to Yuuma’s. Yuuma snorts softly at the earnestness of the question before starting to close his eyes against the intense pleasure. His hips are rolling up into Astral’s smooth hand. Astral wants to tell him to open his eyes again, please, because he wants to see them, he wants to make note of them and understand them and he wants the strange and good shiver that goes through his body when Yuuma looks at him with those eyes. But it looks like it might be hard for Yuuma to keep them open right now, like it might make him uncomfortable, so Astral doesn’t say anything. Instead he focuses on how the closed lids change Yuuma’s expression, how this affects the way his eyebrows go together, how this too is a face of Yuuma feeling good--

Of Yuuma’s body feeling good. Of Yuuma being happy. Astral wants to remember this. More than anything else.

Astral doesn’t know it, but Yuuma’s close. “It feels-- it feels so--” says Yuuma. His breath hitches on the end of his words, cuts off into a desperate and pleasure-splintered moan, and then Astral can sense that something’s coming, although he’s not sure what. Selfishly, almost, he lets go of Yuuma’s hand so that he can gently tilt Yuuma’s face up towards his, be entirely sure that he can see it perfectly, as well as possible. 

“Hey, Yuuma?” Says Astral. He’s smiling slightly, and his face is flushed red, and his eyes are loving and hungry and trusting and slightly confused. “Can you look at me? Yuuma?” 

“It feels--” Yuuma throws his head back, gasping, trying impossibly hard to keep his eyes open, “it feels-- Astral--”

Astral stays reverently still as he watches Yuuma come. Statue still, as still as a heart between beats. He focuses so much of his energy into his eyes that if you looked into them you could see his whole soul there. He wants this as an afterimage every time he blinks. Yuuma’s face as he shakes apart, unwrapped in pleasure in Astral’s hands. 

(Astral needs something, he’s not quite sure what but he has an idea, and anyway, Yuuma will know, Yuuma-- Yuuma always knows--) 

Yuuma comes down panting, like coming down from a mountain. The hand that Astral had between his legs is wet, and he doesn’t know what to do with it, so he holds Yuuma only with his other arm, pulling him by the shoulders into a physically, but not emotionally, awkward embrace. Like always, they slot together, Yuuma’s head in the crook of Astral’s shoulder. Yuuma’s blinking his eyes to clear the sparks from them, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

“That felt amazing, Astral.” Says Yuuma softly, after a long time. “Thank you.” 

“I-- I’m glad.” Astral says. And he is, but also he feels strange. His voice sounds shaky, wobbly, a little too tight. Astral feels-- like his skin is a little too tight. Itchy, antsy. He needs to move, he needs to move-- his hips.

“...Yuuma, I feel--” without thinking, he grinds down against Yuuma’s thigh, where he’s already sitting, and then it’s like he’s seeing stars but with his whole body. Astral gasps brokenly. 

_“Yuuma--”_


End file.
